LIFE IS A HORIZONTAL FALL

PART TWO - MY FRIEND THE WITCH DOCTOR

by Gail Gardner

Please use your imagination and give some of the characters the following voices:

Harry Belafonte

James Earl Jones

Eartha Kitt

Barry White

but, alas, Ezra still sounds like Elmer Fudd...

"I will have him...bring me the white goat." Mama Mokoma demanded in her unique gravelly voice. "You will know him by the usual signs."

Hiki knew better than to ask how or why and what for. When Mama made her demands it was his job to carry out those wishes - in any way possible.

Ezra lay back on the beach chair with a sigh. Maybe it would have been wiser to cut his losses and stay home, but then again someone was sure to show up and nag him, make a fuss. Here, he wouldn't bothered except by the excellent waiter who showed up with a fresh, icy drink just as the other was finished. Something obnoxiously touristy tropical with straws, umbrellas, fruit juice, and just enough alcohol to numb his system.

He had done everything that he was sure the others would have lectured him about, especially Nathan. He had not bothered with pain pills at all, had taken a flight right away after a hasty packing and was now ensconced in a luxury hotel in Bermuda. He had successfully pantomimed his way through the trip, unwilling to open his mouth and have his precious words mangled by a badly bitten tongue.

The hotel staff had interpreted his muteness as a permanent affliction, as he had communicated so well in sign language and succinct written instructions. This was a by-product from working on Team 7. They had become so closeknit that communication was almost more subliminal. Plus Larabee always insisted on clear reports - concise and to the point.

The sun was pleasantly hot, the rays soaking into the black cast set off by Standish's white shorts. He'd removed his shirt after the first hour and had not noticed the waiter's eyes roll at the collection of white scars that marked his upper torso. A novel by Knight which he'd picked up at the Denver airport lay abandoned on the table. A best seller, but light enough reading not to be taken too seriously.

Ezra Standish fell asleep... and slipped into unconsciousness.

Chris Larabee eyed his domain with satisfaction. The weeks rest had done wonders for all of them. He and Billy had spent a day at a carnival making themselves sick on cotton candy, sodas, hot dogs, and wild rides. Mary had only shook her head when both had proudly claimed they never threw up once! Though later Chris confessed to feeling pretty bad after the hammer, and that he only kept the last root beer and corn dog down by strength of will.

Josiah and Vin were rummaging through a greasy cardboard box filled with various metallic pieces that he assumed were automotive parts. They had at least put newspaper down, but he was sure that the grease would be finding it's way into everything. Mind you it might improve Vin's coffee.

"That's my one inch..." Vin was grasping a small indescribable part.

"No. That's my 2.5 millimetre..." The profiler took it from the Texan's hand and added it to his pile.

"Ain't that the same?" Buck leaned over the mess with false interest.

"Nah!"

"Not at all."

Wilmington shrugged and turned away unbuttoning his shirt revealing a rather colourful hickey.

"Buck that is sooo gross!" JD said.

"You got it you flaunt it." Wilmington grinned and did a dip and grind.

"I wouldn't let no girl do that to me." Vin said distastefully.

"An old tribal custom of marking one's territory..."Josiah mused studying a greasy bolt as if it were an ancient fertility statue.

Nathan carefully buttoned his collar's top button to hide the bite marks Rain had given him.

JD went back to his phone call which by content one could assume was with Casey.

"Yeah...uh huh...me too...cool...yeah...uh huh...me too...cool...yeah...uh huh..."

Larabee didn't want to look towards the empty space that belonged to Standish. He felt so good, he didn't really feel like having a harangue about the tardy man. But, it was expected of him.

He took the phone from JD's hand. "Yeahuhhuhcool good-bye Casey, JD has to get back to work." He hung up admiring the perfect teeth that were apparent in JD's mouth which hung open.

"Where is Standish?" His voice was mild. He could have been asking, 'Where is a paper clip?'.

"Umm, he went somewhere else. We did go skiing, it was just..." JD's voice trailed off. "He promised to be here." He looked hopefully at the door waiting for Ezra to sail in and save his hide.

Larabee raised an eyebrow and smiled - benevolently - at the flustered young man. He sat casually on the edge of the desk and picked up one of the many toys that littered the table. A plastic Barney the dinosaur lost his head.

The rest of the team watched in awe as the young man started wilting under the smiling silence of his boss who was trying to put Barney back together. He finally jammed the head onto the tail.

"Ah hmmm ski patrol, Elmer Fudd, ahhh Bermuda and the cast was black!" JD blurted out.

Buck rolled his eyes, Vin shrugged, Josiah raised his eyes heavenwards, Nathan groaned and Barney landed in the wastepaper basket.

"Explain that clearly." Chris said reasonably. Inside his stomach started producing more acid than it could handle and Chris had a moment of deja vu from the hammer ride.

He had no idea just where he was but he knew that he was moving - a curiously disorientating feeling considering he was lying down. Several sensations, none of them pleasant, transmitted themselves to his waking brain in a split second of overload.

"Oh this be a fine one..." A dark face hung over him with snaggle teeth and bad breath. He heard the annoying whirr of a saw and the glistening fast moving blade of an electric saw. He panicked against the ties that were binding him. He was in the back of some sort of vehicle travelling at an improbable speed bouncing and tossing.

"Now little man, we not be hurting you...that be for later...eh?" Standish watched in horrid fascination as the man started sawing at his legs. A wave of nausea and light-headedness took him back into safe unconsciousness.

An unnatural silence hung over the office. Larabee's door was firmly closed, but no one dared to do more than tiptoe around. Everyone jumped when Nathan's phone rang.

"Hallo? Yes...mmm...me too...fine...yes...mmm...me too...fine." He hung up and faced his co-workers. "Uh Rain."

"We would have never guessed." Buck growled and reached over and cuffed JD. "This is all your fault."

"Mine? It's not my fault that Ez broke his leg falling off a ski lift and then disappeared in Bermuda..." His voice trailed off. "Do you suppose?"

"Ah the mysterious Bermuda Triangle." Josiah began pawing through some of his hefty books. "Let's see."

"Ah the mysterious Ezra Triangle..."Nathan mocked in an English accent. "Here today, gone tomorrow without a trace..." He added a sinister hollow laugh. "I watch British mysteries..." He shrugged at his teammates surprised looks.

"Is Chris just going to forget about him?" JD looked plaintively.

"Ezra is a big boy. He can take care of himself." Buck said. "Chris won't worry until the hospitals start calling." A small frown of worry crossed his face.

"Hah!" Nathan snorted. "He couldn't take care of himself even if it only meant putting on a bandaid.

Chris stared at the phone as if it was his worst enemy. His hand itched to start making inquiries into where Standish had disappeared to. Neither his apartment phone nor cell phone were being answered. Damn the man, couldn't have a normal vacation, no he has to hurt himself and then disappear. The phone should have melted into plastic waste under his icy glare, yet when it rang he gave a jump of surprise.

"Larabee." He growled.

"Mr. Larabee, this is the switchboard." The girl sounded nervous. "There's a gentleman calling from overseas for you."

"Who is it?" This didn't sound like Ez at all, though he wouldn't be surprised if was calling collect.

"He wouldn't say, but he has a strong southern accent."

"That weasel...put him on..." Chris stood up and prepared to blister and melt several miles of optic phone cable.

"Listen you miserable..."Larabee began, but was halted by a strange voice.

"Mistah Larabee?" The accent was southern, but broader and more drawn out than Ezra's.

"Yeah? Who are you?"

"Raht naow ahm a friend. Mistah Standish is in a great deal of danger."

"He sure is." Chris said under his breath. "Where is he and what happened?" He continued louder.

"Ya have to trust me that the danger is real...your friend is going to die, but before that he will lose his soul."

"What kind of joker are you? Listen bud, you tell Standish to get his lazy butt back to work in 12 hours or he is through!" Larabee hung up the phone so hard it cracked the receiver...in the same spot it broke three weeks ago when he'd last lost his temper. He pulled the well-used tube of crazy glue out of his desk and glued the battered instrument back together. A good knock on the table and he got the dial tone. He stared at the offensive object willing the prank caller to call back, so he could say a few more choice words. Did Standish really think he was going to fall for this cockamanie story? Standish in danger...likely. Lose his soul? Did the slimy excuse for a human being have one? He dialled the reception. "Larabee. Where did that call come from?"

"Ah it came from Bermuda, sir." The woman timidly answered.

He grunted. Actually, the whole thing seemed a bit too slipshod for Ezra's style. His cons were more - finessed, would the handicap of a bitten tongue and a broken leg take the edge off of him?

Hell - what had happened to Ezra Standish?

Hell - what was happening to him? His moments which seemed to more real than others was a haze of pain and of strangers hurting him. He was tied down and was being systematically tortured. He tried to talk, to find out why, but no one could understand him.

Then there was the white place which was empty and cold and frightened him more than the place of pain. Pieces of himself, thoughts, ideas, emotions seemed to be drawn out of him like someone or something was feeding. In this place, no one was there to hear his screams.

If the members of Team Seven had been tense before their vacation, now they were wound tighter than a snake with its tail in a knot facing a pride of mongoose. Other than that one cryptic phone call that Larabee had received, they heard nothing more of the canny Southerner.

Larabee was the image of stoney faced calmness - while eating antacid pills by the handful. JD had begun furtive checks with little or no result. Strangely enough, it was AD Travis who first brought news of the wayward agent-and it wasn't good news.

An anticipatory silence filled the office when Travis walked in. The team were used to be called to attend him in his own office. His infrequent visits to Team 7's den of iniquity were usually heralded by a terse phone call or at least a few minutes notice, so that they could give some semblance of a normal work place.

"Larabee." He nodded to the rest of the men. "I got a call from the British Embassy in Chicago today. Ezra Standish is being held in a hospital in Bermuda." He knew that they would want to hear the news without any prelude or fancy talk.

"Is he hurt?" JD said breathlessly.

"He's in a hospital, isn't he?" Buck said tersely and glared at Chris. He'd wanted to start looking for Ez more actively, but Larabee had been grimly reluctant.

"His physical condition is poor. However," Travis pinched the bridge of his nose and suddenly looked about ten years older. "He is very ill mentally. The doctors don't seem to give much hope..."

"No..." Josiah breathed out the no rising uncomfortably in pitch. "Not my boy, he couldn't..."

"We gotta bring him home." Vin said with finality.

"The British are for some reason very reluctant to release or even discuss his case over the phone." Travis looked as grim as the rest of the men. "I smell a rat. I agree with , Standish is the last person in the world to 'go crazy' for no reason. Officially, we can't go against the British government..." He looked away from the group for a moment. "As of now, you are all on compassionate leave. Make the best of it." He shot a final look to the men that some might interpret as sympathetic.

"Conference room, now." Larabee snapped.

"We won't waste time with recriminations..." Larabee began as they seated themselves.

"Now wait a sec..."Buck began hotly and leaned defensively towards JD.

"It's my fault." Larabee said shortly. "I'm the team leader. It's my responsibility."

"No one's blamin' anyone." Vin said slowly. "Les just git Ez back - in one piece." The Texan's accent thickening was the only indication of emotion.

"We'll need to send in someone to assess his situation - without the authorities being any wiser."

"I could possibly..."Josiah rumbled.

"Ya need medical knowledge..."Nathan interrupted. "I could give some ideas of what to look for."

"Why don't you go in, as a doctor?" JD asked. "You have all the know how and you can do that British accent."

"I can't." Nathan protested. "I've never done any undercover. It's always Buck or Vin or...or...someone else."

"Can't or won't..." Chris interrupted Nathan's nervous reply.

Nathan was silent for a long moment. He then met Larabee's iron glare with one of his own.

"I won't say that Ezra and I always get along, Lord knows he tries me, but if it is within my powers to do some good for him then I will, no matter what the cost. I'll need some papers forged..."

The periods spent in the white void seemed become more and more frequent or longer. Time seemed to have no relevance yet he felt constantly weaker and weaker and it was becoming hard to think, to feel, to be Ezra Standish.

He welcomed the pain now, embraced it with gladness. It meant that he existed, was still in a real world no matter how unpleasant. He began to recognize faces, most of them black some few white.

"Nafan? Kwiss?" He would scream. To his listeners it was a bare whisper- the meaningless babble of the insane.

They had moved with dispatch, haste with planning backing their operation. Chris and Buck were booked into the fancy resort that Ezra had stayed at, Josiah and JD were to be Ezra's relatives - father and little brother respectively. Vin was delegated to check into the shady side of Bermudan life. Nathan Jackson was cast uneasily in the role of undercover agent.

Nathan took a another deep breath, he had found himself hyperventilating as he walked into the cool clean Bermudian hospital. It was no different than any other hospital he'd ever been in, he kept telling himself. The only real difference seemed to be the fact that the majority of the staff were colored. He himself wore the familiar whites of a doctor, but displayed casually under the pristine white coat was a fine navy blue power suit. He hadn't worn the suit since the last time Rain had chivvied him into it. It wasn't his image, it was too slick, too rich. But it suited the arrogant image that he decided to go for.

He flagged down a young and rather harried looking nurse.

"Straighten your cap m'girl." He snapped. "This is a hospital not a department store. I'm Dr. Detroit, Nathan Detroit. You are expecting me?"

The young woman automatically went to straighten an already pristine nurse's cap. "Oh no sir, I mean, no one has told me that you were coming." She looked hopefully down the hall. "There's Sister Tina, she is the ward sister, she can help you." She beat a hasty retreat after summoning an older rather formidable nurse.

"Ah, Sister, " Nathan recognized a shift in attitude might be a good idea. This woman looked like she ate doctors for breakfast. "I am from the Institute, they sent me here to look over the Standish case."

"Oh yes, poor man. You will be wanting to see his charts?" Sister Tina admired the young man's looks. It wasn't every day that you saw a young doctor wearing a suit under his white coat. Most of the young sprouts these days thought an Adidas running suit was suitable wear.

Nathan found it easier and easier to slide into hospital small talk as they went to the records room to look at the charts.

"Hmmmm." Nathan tried to look calm, but his stomach sank when he read of the chain of events that led up to the Southerner's hospitalization.

"I better have a look at him."

"You will want to look at the others too." Sister Tina looked at him confidently.

"Ah yes...I'm not sure how much time I have..." Others? What was going on here?

"There only be three left now, the first one died last night."

"Have they done the autopsy yet?"

"I'm sorry, " She said in her soft Bermudan accent, "I don't know. I could take you our Chief of Staff."

"Perhaps later, my concern, for the moment is with the living, and ." Nathan's worry for his friend was obvious and the nurse began to like this doctor more and more.

"Anything you want Dr. Detroit, you just ask me or my girls. We will be glad to help you and those poor suffering men."

Josiah and JD were meanwhile bucking against a real wall. wasn't giving any information away.

"I am truly sorry about your son , but we are possibly dealing with an epidemic here. He is the fourth case we've had this month with the same symptoms.

"I want to see him." Josiah growled. It had taken them hours to work their way up the hierarchy of the hospital.

"Naturally. But as for removing him..." The man took off his glasses and wiped them with great deliberation. Despite the coolness of the room he was sweating profusely. "That is impossible."

"We'll get a court order." JD slid in helpfully.

"You do that young man. It will take you time to go through the diplomatic necessities. You Americans have no patience, no skill for waiting. This is the best we can do for you now." He stood up dismissing them.

"Ez could die by then..." JD blurted out.

"We will do all we can to preserve his life." said impatiently.

"What about his soul?" Josiah said and raised himself out of the chair to his most considerable height.

"How dare you come here and confront me with that superstitious twaddle!" The man's face began to turn red. "Do you go to a hospital in New York or Chicago and confront them with witch doctor soul stealing? No, by God, you Americans all think Bermuda is a backward nation rife with voodoo and devil worshippers! Now get out!"

The two men left and silently walked towards the ward where Ezra was.

"Uh Josiah."JD finally said hesitantly. "You didn't say anything about witch doctors or soul stealing."

"No son, I didn't, but someone has." Josiah said with his brow furrowed.

Chris was quickly, but carefully sifting through some of the hotel records while Buck had waylaid the desk clerk with a very convoluted and tricky problem involving the plumbing in their room. Something that involved flushing a brassiere down the toilet. Chris didn't want to think any more about that.

Standish's room service bills were nothing out of the ordinary except that he drank an extraordinary amount of cocktails known as a Pagan Goddess just before he had been rushed off to the hospital. Standish was also a generous tipper, something that somehow didn't surprise Larabee. He seemed to have been served by the same waiter or busboy as the initials on the bills were all the same.

No phone calls - in or out, the only thing of note was that Mr. Standish required two extra pillows for his leg and was apparently a mute. Larabee shook his head. Damn Standish, couldn't he have left some clues?

He was already ensconced in the lobby hiding behind a copy of the London Daily News when Buck returned noisily with the desk clerk.

"You find me the filly that fell into the toilet with that thing and I'll be real pleased with the service here." Buck laughed raucously which was answered by a hollow fake laugh from the desk clerk who was trying to hide the sopping wet article under the desk.

"Mistah Wilmington, you have such a humor. Ha ha."

Buck moseyed over to Chris. "Yah find anything."

"Not a damn thing solid." Larabee grunted. "C'mon let's sit on beach and order a few drinks."

He grinned wolfishly at Buck's look of surprise. "Bet you've never tasted a Pagan Goddess."

"Hell no, but I'm sure willing." Buck said eagerly. He halted in following Chris out when he saw a beautiful Asian woman approach the desk clerk with a worried expression. "Can you help me please, the toilet if overflowing in my room..." He didn't hear the rest as he reluctantly followed his boss out to the beach fronting the hotel. Business before pleasure. He didn't notice the red-haired man who darted behind the front desk as the harried clerk followed the young lady to retrieve his second brassiere of the day.

Josiah smoothed the damp hair off of the young man's face. His green eyes were open, but did not see anything. His breath was coming in short panting breaths and the body was bowed tight against the restraints that held him virtually immobile.

"Son? Can you hear me?" He leaned over the tense body. "It's me and JD..." He gave a brief glance towards the male nurse who was eyeing him stoically.

The two men spent a frustrating 10 minutes trying to communicate with their fallen brother. Finally, and with a sigh, Josiah removed a small gold cross from around his neck and gently put it around the neck of the unresponsive man. "God protect you son." He whispered.

Josiah and JD left the room, the nurse placed his black hand over the cross - there was a hissing sound as it evaporated leaving a small red cross burned into Ezra's chest. "Even that won't help you little man." Hiki chuckled deeply as the green eyes flickered with terror and then became blank again. This one was strong, but he too would succumb to the powers of Mama Mokoma, soon, very soon.

Vin Tanner hit his third dockyard bar in several hours. There was a different air to the underside of Bermuda. There was a great deal more smuggling going on, which seemed natural for an island in the Caribbean. Pickpockets were rife, considering the potential with tourists, but there was also something dark and dangerous hovering over the darker side of Bermuda. Drugs. Not just cocaine, or heroin, or pot, but something more powerful was being offered, something way out of a normal drug dealer's league. As he left the third bar, a rather seedy looking character made a phone call.

"Someone's asking questions...yeah Boss, he's American. You want me to follow him? Okay."

Nathan and the ward sister entered Standish's room not ten minutes after Josiah and JD left.

"Mister Hiki! You should not be here!" The older lady raked the black man with a scornful glare.

"I wanted to see how this poor man was doing..." His teeth were a dentist's nightmare as he attempted a smile.

"He's fine and in my ward. You get back to your ambulance before they miss you." Sister Tina was having none of his explanations.

Nathan was already by Ezra' side. With gentle hands he examined the physical injuries. They were nasty enough, but not enough to warrant this awful mental state. Of course restraining the Southerner was the last thing they should have done. It was just the thing to drive Ezra crazy, but not this depth of nothingness.

"Have you seen any response?" Nathan pried open Ezra's hand and noticed the deep halfmoon cuts of fingernails digging deep into the palm.

"At first, he would respond to treatments for the burns, very painful they are you know , even though they were only first and second degree."

"Was the restraint necessary?"

"The leg had to be immobilized and he managed to re-break it every time we attempted to release him. It was a terrible thing for him, I think it quite hurt his spirit."

"But this state of catatonia is too deep for even such a trauma." Nathan said and as he released his friend's hand it immediately curled tightly into a fist again. Without thinking about his role as a doctor, but as a colleague and a friend Nathan framed Ezra's face with his hands. Though the man was sweating profusely his skin was cold to the touch and there was a tinge of blue around the lips. "Ezra? Open your eyes Ezra. I want to help you, please for once let me help you. Don't fight me." His voice was close to breaking.

The plea went unanswered, but the toughened nurse had tears in her eyes. Why couldn't more doctors be like this gentle man?

With a start Nathan realized where he was and the role he was playing.

"Did you check for drugs?" He asked almost casually. It hadn't been mentioned in the records, yet it seemed an obvious conclusion except for those who knew Ezra Standish well. The man had to be forced to even take an aspirin for a headache.

Nurse Tina bit her lip thoughtfully. It could cost her job - yet was man who looked down on his nursing staff, treating them as imbeciles and barely tolerant of the other doctors as well. This Detroit was a real man of medicine.

"He was tested, but Dr. James said not to write up the results - he was doing his own line of research and didn't want anyone stealing the information." Her lip curled scornfully.

Nathan's mind slid to an ugly conclusion. "You said you would help me.." His eyes met hers steadily. "Keep a close eye on Ezra... and the others. Don't let anyone near them that you don't know," he took a deep breath "...or trust."

"Oh I know what you be meaning Doctor." The woman smiled at him. "I'll be on watch, trust me."

"Thank you." Nathan said sincerely. "I have to go now and consult with the Institute, but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Yes ." A little shiver of delight at the name slid up Nathan's spine. As he walked out of the hospital he felt suddenly drained and tired, but incredibly elated. He did it!

The six of them met several hours later at Chris' and Buck's hotel room.

"Let's do this in order of time." Chris started without preamble. "Ez flew here the day after his ski accident. Rather than ruin his suave image by sounding like a cartoon character - he preferred to remain silent."

"For Standish, something short of amazing." Buck cut in and ducked as Larabee glared.

"He had dinner in his room and apparently slept well. He had breakfast in the dining room at 11:00 am." Larabee paused and then continued, " He then went to the beach and had the waiter by the name of..."

"Mono." Buck interjected.

"...bring him four cocktails known as Pagan Goddess'"

"What do they have in them?" Nathan asked with a frown on his face.

"Shot of cognac, shot of cherry brandy, Curacao, grenadine, lemon juice and a bunch of fruit to soak it all up. Very good, but after one I was buzzed." Chris admitted.

"Four...whoooeee." Vin shook his head.

"I talked to Mono, " Buck began, "he said that after he served the fourth cocktail Standish fell asleep. He began to worry that he would begin to sunburn so he tried to wake him up. When he couldn't he called an ambulance." His and the others gaze fell on Nathan.

"Apparently, Ezra had a slight concussion from the ski accident. That combined with jet lag, pushing himself too much, and four umm Pagan Goddess' combined to render him unconscious. That, however, wasn't his worst problem. Our brother's need for 'appearances' caused him to ask for a black cast. He sat in the sun for several hours and the cast attracted heat. He had first and second degree burns on his leg - and a nasty sunburn on the rest of him. In order to treat the burns, they had to remove the cast and put him in traction."

"They tied him down." Josiah said bitterly. "Trussed him up like a pig."

"He re-broke the leg twice." Everyone winced. "And this is where things go way wrong. We know Ezra can speak, he just had a bad bitten tongue. Yet, the reports all say he was babbling nonsense and became more and more comatose. He no longer fought against the treatments, but while in his unconscious state became more violent. Medically, it doesn't figure...though I suppose a real doctor would have a better opinion." Nathan shrugged.

"Ya done good Nate. Ezra'd be proud of you." Vin said.

"There were some other things. , the head of the hospital did some testing for drugs..."

"Ezra wouldn't ever..." JD burst out.

"We know, but he could have been drugged." Chris interrupted. "Go on Nathan."

"He kept the information to himself. I ah made friends with one of the nurses, she told me."

"I didn't like James." Josiah said bluntly. "And he said something interesting to us. When JD mentioned getting a court order he got all huffy. JD said that Ezra could die before we got him out of the hospital. He replied that they would take care of him physically. I asked about his soul." Josiah looked down at his large capable hands and then looked up again. "He started ranting about soul-stealing witch doctors and devil worshippers. Someone has been making accusations of that kind."

"Now Josiah..."Buck began.

"There are strange things happening around Brother Ezra and I, for one, am not ready to rule out spiritual foul play."

The other men began to shift uncomfortably in their chairs. No one wanted to gainsay the preacher, but they were used to solid evidence, things they could see with their own eyes.

"Word is on the street that there's a new drug, a new high. It's called Soul Food." Vin said carefully.

"Served with greens and chitlins." Nathan added.

The rest of the men stared at him, not only was he successful in his undercover assignment, but now Nathan was beginning to sound like the wise-cracking Standish. Nathan grinned sheepishly.

Vin shifted uncomfortably in his chair, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck begin to tickle. Suddenly alert, he glanced around the room. The doors to the balcony stood open coaxing in the afternoon breeze. He darted a glance at Larabee who raised an eyebrow. The two men moved cat like to the open door flanking it. Buck kept up an inane chatter and argument with JD masking the men's movements.

They reached out and drew in a young Asian woman.

"Hey let go!" She protested in an all too American accent.

"That's the girl I saw in the lobby." Buck eyed her trim figure appreciatively.

"What do you want and why are you spying on us?" Larabee glared at the young woman.

"We are here to help...your friend in the hospital..."

Larabee's grip tightened painfully. "What do you know? Who are you?"

"My name is Grace Nakamura. I'm..."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Buck strode over and opened it warily. A tall red-haired man stood there. "Ah seem to have lost mah wife..." He tried to look sheepish.

"Buck! Get him in here!" Larabee barked and surrendered the woman to Vin's hold. He crammed the man up against the wall. "You are the one who called me in Denver." He snarled. "Who are you?"

"Ah'm Gabriel Knight..."

"The writer?" Chris frowned.

"The Shattenjaeger." Josiah interjected and laid a hand on Larabee's shoulder. "Let him go Chris."

"Spirit...uh ghost hunter?" JD dredged up scraps of high school German.

(Note: Gabriel Knight is a character from a series of computer games. He is a writer of paranormal mysteries and is from New Orleans. He is also from a long line of Shattenjaeger's. Their job is to fight against the evils of the world that exist beyond our normal realms. They are great games, Gabriel is a fantastic character and you don't have to have the reflexes of a mongoose or a teenager to play it.)

It took both Josiah and the persuasive powers of Gabriel to explain his role in Ezra Standish's mystery illness.

"Ah heard from a reliable source that the soul eaters were becoming more than just a voodoo wanne be sect. Some doctor had found a new drug that made people succumb physically more quickly and then weaken the spirit so it can be pulled almost out of the body."

"A person's soul or spirit is a strong thing. It cannot be totally destroyed, but it can be altered, consumed, corrupted." Josiah added. "Or enlightened, made purer."

Buck and Chris looked sceptical while it was JD who nodded slowly.

"My Mom, before she died. She looked like an angel." He recounted.

Nathan shook his head sourly. His look of disbelief was mirrored by Buck.

Despite their own personal opinions the men turned towards Larabee.

Chris coughed lightly. "Sarah...she had a gift...of seeing what people were really like, what they were capable of. I guess that's why she married me. I can believe it."

Gabriel nodded towards the blond leader. "I found out that the waiter Mono slipped a little extra something into 's drink, but there must have been someone else who siphoned his soul.

Nathan gave a start. "The ambulance attendant. He was in the room with Ezra when I went to see him. A rather big black man with terrible teeth."

"He was there when we were with him too." Josiah added.

"So, is our prime suspect as the drug supplier and and Mono are involved.

"The leader of the cult is Mama Mokoma. She is a truly wicked woman." Grace added. "She is well over a hundred years old and lives on sucking the souls of white men."

Knight kept to himself that he suspected that the body she inhabited was over a hundred years old, but that the evilness that inhabited that body was much, much older. These men were more open than most, but still reserved and unbelieving.

"We could find a priest, use holy water."Josiah mused. "I put a cross around Ezra's neck."

"That won't help much. We need something much more stronger." Knight drew an ornate pendant from under his shirt. "I believe it will take this and a truly brave person to defeat this evil and save from friend's soul and life."

To everybody's surprise and horror Knight's gaze fell on Nathan Jackson.

"I...what...why me?" He blurted out.

"You are black. That will give you admittance to the meeting tonight and bring you close enough to use...this." He almost reluctantly handed the mark of the Shattenjaeger into Jackson's unwilling hands. The gold metal shone briefly and he felt a warmth spread from it.

"You can do it Nate." Vin said.

"How will it work?" Chris asked. He liked things well planned, all contingencies covered. Invoking supernatural powers wasn't in his field of experience.

"Ah don't know," the man said in his broad New Orleans accent. "But I will be as close as possible. You have to trust in yourself and your feelings. Do what feels right."

Nathan groaned. First undercover doctor, now he was asked to be a witch doctor. "Ezra's gonna owe me big time." He said and slipped the medallion over his neck.

"All right." Larabee took over. "Buck. I want you to go with Nate as backup." He glared at Gabriel who started to protest.

"I'll go too." Grace said stubbornly.

"Josiah and JD, you go to the hospital and keep James away from Ez. Keep an eye on him. Let me know if there is any change.

"Vin and I are going to have a look around ' place and see if we can't find evidence of drugs."

"And God have mercy on our souls." Josiah intoned.

"Amen." Came simultaneously from all those in the room.

Nathan didn't have to fake looking scared. There was something about the place, not to speak of the company that caused an involuntary shiver creep up his spine. He'd read about his African roots, but the feeling here was more primitive, something that oozed out of the mud as man was born - something evil and unclean. The rhythm of the drums and the monotonous chanting seemed to suck and pull at him. He found himself moving and gyrating to the beat. The medallion given to him by Knight began to feel unnaturally warm against his skin it began to beat with it's own pulse - a counterpoint to the other hypnotic pulsation. Nathan shook his head and took note of his surroundings. The rest of the crowd were jerking, moving, dancing to the infernal drums. They were enthralled and didn't seem to be aware of where they were or what they were doing. The wizened woman who called herself Mama Mokoma was dancing around what seemed to be a crude altar. Placed in various levels around the altar were four glass jars that seemed to pulse and quiver with an unearthly blue-white light - not unlike fluorescent lamps sputtering to death.

Nathan recognized the ambulance man Hiki who was hovering over the jars and looking - hungry.

At some unknown signal the drums stopped, though Nathan felt a strange thumping in his ears as if they continued inside his head. The old black lady lifted up a jar and raised it high.

"We eat tonight of the soul of the white goat! Ula dulla doff!" She chanted.

"Kinkalada kof..." The crowd chanted in response.

"KONKALADA" She screamed and the light in the jar flickered wildly.

lived in a palatial house. A little too palatial for a Chief of Staff of a small island hospital. Vin and Chris slid silently in through an easily picked side door. Expensive, but tasteless works of art and obscene statuary were scattered throughout the rooms. The men looked at each other as they heard the faint sound of drums coming from the bedroom.

Josiah stabbed the call button and was relieved to see a nurse appear almost immediately. Standish had stopped breathing. She and the rest of the staff were quickly in place shoving Josiah and JD to one side of the room. Josiah began to pray and JD kept repeating "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon."

"Ready to shock." The doctor charged the paddles again. "Clear." The shock ran through Standish's body.

"Sinus rhythm..." Nurse Tina reported. "Come on . You come back." Her warm voice begged him.

Two women, both with ancestries from the cradle of civilization had their hands on Ezra Standish. One to eat his soul and the other to heal his body. It was the age old struggle of good over evil.

"KINKELADE!" The crowd roared in response not quite masking Nathan's desperate "Noooo." as the woman raised the jar to her lips to drink what was probably the essence of Ezra Standish.

Nathan leapt for the woman and was met almost head on by the large Hiki. They exchanged a few blows when the larger man gripped Nathan by the shirt and tore it - exposing the medallion of the Shattenjaeger. Hiki screamed as his hands were burnt by an excruciating cold fire. He fell writhing to the ground. Nathan lunged for the old woman and the jar "ULE DULE D..." Her final portentous words were left unuttered as Nathan pulled the medallion off of his neck and swinging it like a bolo. He let go of it and it wrapped itself around the crone's neck. She fell as if poleaxed and Nathan made a wild grab for the jar, catching it just before it would shatter on the cold hard ground. A small amount of the contents slopped onto Nathan's hand - it felt warm and a strange electrical tingle shot up his arm and settled between his eyes and then faded. Gabriel Knight seemed to appear out of nowhere and with a strange fire in his eyes cleared the place. Buck followed close at his heels with Grace Nakamura. There was little fight in the now passive followers of black magic. Mama Mokoma was no more than a patch of sludge on the ground with the medallion blinking brightly, untouched and untarnished. Nathan looked in amazement at the jar. It was empty.

"Is he...Ezra?" His voice broke.

"He's back where he should be." Knight said confidently, as with a sigh he placed the medallion in its familiar place around his own neck.

In the hospital, the doctor and nurses gave a sigh of relief as their patient stabilized. For the first time in days he opened his eyes.

"Naf...Nath...an?" He whispered and fell asleep with a relaxed look on his face.

"Praise be." Sister Tina breathed and then with a stern look began ordering the nurses, orderlies, and the doctor around. She wasn't surprised that he called for that marvellous doctor, Nathan Detroit. His reputation would become the measure in years to come in the Bermudan hospital for excellence in doctors. The finest accolade given by the nursing staff would be that of , 'That new doctor, he be Nathan Detroit material. He's worth teaching."

An anonymous tip led the efficient Bermudan police to ' home where they found a cache of very suspicious and most illegal substances. That the good doctor himself was under some sort of influence himself was obvious. He lay on the floor of his bedroom stark naked babbling over and over "Ule dule d...ule dule d...ule dule d..."

Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner were watching from a safe, but close distance and were grimly satisfied. They were even more happy when they got a call from JD at the hospital.

"He's gonna make it!" JD proclaimed happily. "Josiah is with him now. You coming?"

"On our way." Larabee said with a grin as Vin pulled out into traffic. "Dammit Vin! Drive on other side of the road!" JD heard his leader yell as the connection was broken.

One month later...

Larabee looked around the office with satisfaction. Everything was back to normal again, more or less. Josiah was reading bits and pieces of the latest Gabriel Knight novel out loud to an enthusiastic audience of JD and Vin.

"The young man shuddered and a foul stench pervaded the room as the soul stealer was ousted from his body by the magic talisman."

"He belched?" Vin said, "Man that must leave a bad taste in the mouth. Like three week old socks."

"How do you know what three week old socks taste like?" JD asked innocently. Vin took a swipe at the young man which escalated into an impromptu game of tag. The two bounded over Buck's desk while he was on the phone. He shook a fist at them as he was talking. "Yeah...uh huh...mmmm...all right! Yeah...uh huh...mmmm...all right...Yeah but Grace honey..." He stared at the receiver as he was obviously hung up on.

Ezra made a rude gesture to Vin as he bumped into his leg which no longer had a cast but was still tender. Vin crossed two fingers together and pinched his nose back at the Southerner. Ezra had returned to work last week only to find his desk and computer festooned with garlic and voodoo masks and a few choice souvenirs from Bermuda. The smell of garlic still hung faintly over his work space.

Nathan was apparently engrossed in a large medical book. The fact that the book was upside down and faint snores were coming from behind the book alerted Larabee that even Nathan wasn't all there today.

Larabee gave Nathan's chair a little nudge with his toe. The well-oiled wheels obliged and the man and chair slipped away from the support of the desk.

Josiah chuckled as Nathan came awake with a start and a bad word.

Playtime over the men went back to their work preparing for their next case.

"Rain keep you up?" Josiah chided the black man gently.

"No, she's busy with seminar work now." Nathan looked at his friend cautiously. "Josiah...you know I don't put much store in...well...you know strange things." He paused uncomfortably. "But after Bermuda..."His voice trailed off uncertainly. "I've been having this dream. It's always the same. I'm running and running and someone's saying. 'Don't go there, you will never..."

"Come back." Both men looked up startled as Ezra stood next to them. "I've had the same dream."

"Dear God." Josiah said.

To be continued...in June's challenge if it can be done!